Wishing on Willows: A Novel (25 page)

Ian stared at the empty chair—the place Mom should have been—and let the banter float around him. The dark cloud shadowing McKay Development and Construction had temporarily lifted. Ian’s coworkers seemed determined to set aside their worries over an uncertain future and celebrate Joseph McKay—their fearless leader. Ian had a harder time grasping the lighthearted mood, holding, as he did, those uncertain futures in his hand.

The table erupted in laughter. “You sure do know how to tell a joke, Joseph,” Bob said, dabbing the corners of his eyes.

Ian reached down deep for a chuckle, but came back void. How could Dad carry on like normal? How could he tell jokes and laugh when Mom wasn’t there? She never missed any award dinners in the past.

Jim Harley slid his arm around the back of his wife’s chair. She looked much healthier tonight than she had at the company Christmas party. “You’re unusually quiet tonight, Ian.”

Six pairs of eyes turned in his direction.

“Just enjoying the conversation.”

Jim wrapped his fingers around the stem of his wine glass and lifted it toward Amanda. “How did you two meet?”

Amanda chewed a bite of steak and wiped her lips with a linen napkin. “Peaks isn’t a very big town. I think everybody knows Ian at this point.”

“Do you know this café owner? This lady who’s giving us such a hard time?”

The cloud returned.

“She’s my sister-in-law.” Amanda popped a bite of buttered potato in her mouth.

“Really?”

“And I’m her accountant,” Amanda added.

Jim’s muddy eyes studied Ian over the rim of his wine glass, a pinch of disapproval etched in the corners of his mouth. “An ironic choice for a guest. Especially tonight.”

Amanda speared some asparagus. “Why’s that?”

“Your sister-in-law is threatening the very company we’re gathered to celebrate.” Silverware stilled around the table.

Ian’s jaw tightened. He didn’t like the way Jim talked about Robin. “She’s a widow who’s devoted to her café. I hardly think that makes her the bad guy.”

“I just hope you’re as devoted to this company.”

Jim’s wife put her hand over his. “Jim, please,” she murmured. “Now’s not the time.”

He threw his napkin over his food and scooted away from the table. “Excuse me while I get some fresh air.”

Any hint of the jovial mood from earlier slunk away with him. Ian could feel Dad studying one side of his face, Amanda the other. Bob clinked his spoon against his glass, his cheeks rosy. Whether from the wine or the awkwardness, Ian had no idea. “I, for one, have every confidence in you, Ian. You’re made out of your father’s stock. And he’s a man worth toasting.” Bob picked up his drink. “To Joseph. Not only an exceptional boss, but a mentor, a leader, and role model for all of us.”

Everyone lifted their glasses. “Hear, hear.”

Ian raised his as well, but Dad wasn’t smiling. He was too busy examining Ian, as if trying to put together two puzzle pieces. Ian shifted in his seat and pulled his attention toward the front as the chamber president started the ceremony.

It really shouldn’t have surprised him when Dad walked on stage to accept his award. It really shouldn’t have surprised him when he received the longest round of applause. It really shouldn’t have surprised him when he thanked Ian. “For not only being a wonderful son, but for being an exceptional employee. I know the future of this company will be in good hands.”

None of these things should have surprised Ian at all. And that feeling
he got—one part admiration, two parts suffocation? That shouldn’t have surprised him either.

Raindrops splashed against the windshield in a steady drumbeat. Amanda glanced over at Ian several times during the short drive from the banquet hall to her hotel, and each time she caught him strangling the steering wheel with a white-knuckled grip. She’d counted on tonight being a distraction, and it most certainly was, just not in the way she’d expected. The whole evening had turned into an intriguing riddle. Amanda loved a good riddle.

Approaching headlights sliced through the dark as Ian steered his car into the parking lot of the Marriott. As soon as he pulled beneath the hotel’s front awning, the patter of rain against the roof of the car went silent. He stepped outside, walked around the front, opened Amanda’s door, and led her toward the lobby, stopping short of the automatic doors.

“Thanks for coming.” He stood with one hand in his pocket, the other massaging the back of his neck, as if to squeeze away whatever tension festered there. “Sorry I was such lousy company.”

“You were a bit distracted, weren’t you?”

He pinched the air with his thumb and forefinger. “A little.”

“Ian?”

“Yes?”

“What was Jim talking about at the dinner table before he left?”

Ian resumed his neck-massaging. “Jim had no business saying what he did. I’m really sorry he put you in that position. I promise he’s not normally such a jerk.”

She scuffed a rock with the ball of her shoe and peeked at Ian through her eyelashes. “I doubt Jim and I will ever cross paths again, so I don’t care if he’s a jerk. You didn’t answer the question.”

“Jim’s worried about his job. Peaks isn’t the only place hurting from this recession.”

“And Cheryl?”

He laughed. “A little nosy, are we?” His words were lighthearted. The tone, however, came out short and stiff.

The riddle grew more and more interesting.

“I’m sorry. I promise my frustration has nothing to do with you.”

“So what? She’s an ex-girlfriend?”

“More like ex-wife.”

Momentary shock stole her voice. She stood with her mouth slightly ajar, trying to adjust her impression. So Ian McKay was not the handsome and charming bachelor so many women in Peaks thought him to be. He was the handsome and charming divorcé.

He peered out into the wet night, a muscle ticking in his jaw.

“You still love her? Is that where the tension comes from?”

“I don’t know if I ever really loved her.”

“Ouch.”

“If you asked Cheryl, I’m sure she’d say the feeling was mutual.” He took a step back, as if to escape the conversation, but Amanda stepped with him. Her simmering curiosity had turned into a full-out boil. Ian sighed. “She was an ambitious intern. One of the best my father ever had. And gorgeous. She was passionate about the industry and enamored with my position in the company. I was jealous of her passion and she made work more exciting for a while. My dad didn’t approve of our relationship at first. He’s not big at mixing business and pleasure. But I didn’t listen and we ended up with a big mess on our hands.”

“If you weren’t in love with each other, where’d all the tension come from?”

“It’s complicated.”

Her thoughts turned to Jason and Africa. “Isn’t everything?”

He took a deep breath. The air puffed up his chest, then swooshed past his lips. “The short version? She wanted a divorce but I didn’t. I fought her, but she got it anyway.”

“I thought you didn’t love her.”

“Despite its prevalence, divorce isn’t exactly something everyone smiles
upon, especially when they don’t understand why it happened. My dad refuses to accept it. He thinks I gave up too early.” He closed his eyes. Amanda couldn’t tell if he was trying to press something away or conjure something up. She simply knew that in that moment, Ian looked incredibly vulnerable and devastatingly handsome. She couldn’t imagine why any woman would leave him. “I didn’t take my vows lightly.”

“That’s an admirable quality.”

“Yeah, well, sometimes I don’t feel so admirable.” He shook his head, as if the movement might shake away the memories too. “I’m not normally so morose. I apologize for the poor behavior.”

“I know a way you can make it up to me.” She wasn’t ready to let the riddle go yet. And despite Ian’s frankness—despite his obvious feelings for Robin—Amanda enjoyed spending time with him.

“Yeah?”

“Let me take you out. A night on the town.” She held up her hand in a Girl Scout pledge. “Just as friends. I promise.”

“I’m not sure why you’d want to.”

“Because I think you’re a good guy, Ian. And you look like you could use some fun.” Plus, Robin would never own up to her feelings unless somebody stood behind her and gave her a good shove.

“I’m going to be here for most of the week.”

“When you get back, then.”

Uncertainty danced in his eyes.

“Come on! It’ll be fun.”

“If you can put up with me for another night, then I can put up with you.”

“Good. Consider it a friend-date.”

“Thanks for coming tonight,” Ian said.

“It was fun.” She kissed his cheek. “I can see where you get your charm. And your fancy looks. Your dad’s quite the guy.”

She meant the words as a compliment. Yet Ian looked at her like they’d rubbed against painful places.

Robin whacked the ball of dough on the prep table with a wooden rolling pin. It had been over a week, eight whole days since the town meeting, and all anybody could talk about was Ian and his condominiums. The only upside was a substantial increase in clientele. Between her two-part coupon plan and an outcry from a passionate minority, business at her café was booming. Mayor Ford’s dissenters seemed to believe purchasing coffee was the best way to fight back.

Some came to her café expressing their condolences as if she’d already lost. Others encouraged her to keep fighting. A few were so offended they picketed outside Sybil’s Antique Shoppe until Kyle kindly asked them to stop. Despite their good intentions, the marching and signs scared people away from One Life, and since Sybil didn’t get any customers anyway, the whole thing was counterproductive.

A good chunk of the town, however, seemed eager. Everywhere Robin went—Piggly Wiggly, Val’s Diner, CVS, the post office, even the barber shop for Caleb’s haircut—buzzed with gossip and speculation and an excited sense of anticipation. More people than she hoped spoke about the south side renovation as if it were a done deal. As if she’d already agreed to sell her café. Well, she hadn’t agreed and maybe she could clarify that important morsel of information if she could find Ian, but he’d left town and had yet to return. What kind of person touched off a grenade and left without watching it explode?

“Are you angry with that dough?”

Robin turned around, brandishing her rolling pin. Joe had his upper half wrapped around the door frame, his lower half hidden behind it.

“Just venting,” she mumbled.

“Do you mind pausing for a quick second? Amanda’s out here asking for you.”

Amanda, the traitor. Besides an annoyingly brief text—
in Chicago w/Kelly, c u on Friday :)
—Robin was completely in the dark on Amanda’s activities, including her fancy banquet date. “Why didn’t she just come in?”

Joe shrugged and disappeared.

Robin wiped her hands on her apron and followed Joe out of the kitchen, where Amanda stood by the cash register, tapping a thick envelope against the countertop. “Payroll for my favorite client.”

A week’s worth of questions pricked inside Robin’s head. How was the banquet? Did Ian accompany her to Chicago? Did they return to Peaks together? But Robin swallowed them. Amanda would only mistake her reason for asking, blow everything out of proportion. “I didn’t know if you’d be back in time.”

“I didn’t have any meetings this week. And since I was already halfway to Chicago, I took the opportunity to visit Kelly. It was great. We spent the entire time scrounging through every sales rack along the Magnificent Mile. I got a killer pair of jeans for fifteen dollars.”

A warm gust of humid air swept through the café as Judy, the town librarian, came through the front doors. “Joe,” Robin said, “could you get Judy a whipless soy latte? Unleaded, and eighty-six the cinnamon.”

Joe set aside a pair of metal tongs and stepped behind the espresso machine. Judy came to the counter, flashing a mouthful of horse teeth. “I go to Alaska for a few weeks and I come back to a tornado of excitement. I heard about the meeting and the condos. This is the most interesting thing that’s happened since the last mayor decided to build a new library.”

Interesting?
More like a giant, ear-splitting headache.